


Cigarette Break

by midnightradiowaves



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightradiowaves/pseuds/midnightradiowaves
Summary: Jeanne De Bois recounts his brief time working for the OHC as a temporary stagehand and the curious janitor he met there in a story he calls 'Cigarette Break'. (Based on the Blowing Smoking prompt/headcanon from tumblr)





	

               The first time I went to Paris, I was twenty-eight. I was at the age where children think they are men because they own a car. Then it dawned upon me that I would have to make something of myself. Of course, I was twenty-eight; what does that mean? Making something of myself meant selling everything I owned and moving from Brussels to Paris to become a famous poet. Needless to say, that did not work out as well as I would have liked.

                After a bad year, I had lost my car, and I was working days at a soap factory – days in a soap factory and nights at a bar. That is when a friend of mine called me saying that there was a job opening where he worked. They planned to have bigger acts and needed another man. He knew I was very strong and trustworthy, so he invited me to be interviewed. I was so very excited – I was so excited because at the time he was working for the Orbiting Human Circus of the Air. How could I not be excited? This was a world famous radio show, and I had a man on the inside that would speak up for me. If nothing else, it was a radio show at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I thought I would be entertained every day. I think I actually left the phone hanging when I ran to the station to apply – that was how excited I was for this job.

                A few days later, I was informed that I received the job, and I was happy - happier than I had ever been. When I arrived to work, my friend asked me if I was alright because I was crying, and I told him I was ‘just so happy’. At the end of the day I was still crying and he asked again. We had just moved two to three hundred pounds of equipment that day – how could I still be so happy? I told him I was not happy; I was crying because I thought I broke my back.

                I suppose my friend took pity on me, because he told me that I need to learn to take cigarette breaks. When I was hired, I was told not to smoke around the set, but my friend assured me that everyone there smoked. I should probably tell you that I did not smoke. Everyone in Paris smoked, except me. I did not smoke. That lasted four days, and then I started pretending to smoke, and then actually smoking when the others made fun of me.

                So things go well from that point on. Every now and again I would go out for my break, and my back was not so bad at the end of the day. I also started to get used to the cigarettes, though they left this terrible taste in my mouth. However, one day I had forgotten my cigarettes. Of course, I did not want my boss to know. So when my break came, I snuck out to the observation deck to hide until my break was over. This is when I ran into the janitor.

                All the other hands, they told me to stay away from him because he was very troublesome. My first day I come in and I am told that if I saw him by the stage I was to get rid of him – that is how troublesome he was. At first, I did not believe them, and then I spent three hours chasing a bird because he left the cage open. Now, I had the chance to meet this troublemaker.

                And I say that I met him because I had worked for the station a month, and we had not spoken to each other. We were both always too busy to talk – he was busy causing problems and I was busy fixing them. I remember, I thought it strange because every day I saw him at least once, but that day I had not seen him. One of the other hands told me he was maybe in the vents, or in the walls, waiting to come out like some kind of tiny monster. But no, he was just outside taking his own cigarette break.

                I was worried that my boss might come by and tell me to get back to work if she saw me empty handed, so I asked him, “May I have a cigarette, please?”

                He looked at me, and there was this odd look on his face. He was sad, I think. I do not think I had ever seen him sad before; I had seen the host try to strangle him, and he did not look so sad. But this was our first meeting so I said nothing about it, and he said nothing to me. He just pulled out this silver cigarette case and offered me one. I thought it was so strange; what is this sad janitor doing with such a case? My father worked every day of his life for a lawyer and never had a cigarette case like that. Still, I only asked him for a light.

                So there we are, two men smoking on top of the Eiffel Tower, and I look over to him. I wanted to ask where he got his cigarettes because I liked the taste. That is when I saw him do something amazing. It was so bizarre that I looked at the cigarette he had given me, thinking it was not tobacco. The janitor blew a ring of smoke and dotted it with his cigarette. I watched this gray cloud turn into a bear with a swipe of his hand. I thought it was an accident, but then he blew a smaller ring and made a little bear - a cub. It was so unbelievable. I stood there gaping until the wind swept the bears away.

“That is amazing!” I told him.

                The janitor looked to me again. I did not like this look. It was like ‘who is this man? Why is he talking to me?’. I did not tell him this as I wanted to see more, and I asked him to do more. He blew out a cloud of shapeless smoke and asked me, “What should I do?”

                He looked bored of me. I do not think I noticed at the time because I was so distracted. I felt like a child. By this time, the show had lost luster because I was working so hard. Nothing is amazing when you have to move it on and off stage. I moved a box of dancing, jumping mice one day and to me it was just a box of mice. It was in this way that I thought the janitor was truly amazing. So like a child I blurted the first thing that came to mind: “A bird?” It was actually very stupid because I hate birds. I think they are noisy and annoying, but that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

                So the janitor, he turned around and leaned with his back on the railing, - he leaned back so far that I thought he might fall over the edge - and he took a long drag of his cigarette, and just closed his eyes. I was holding my breath. I wanted to know what kind of bird he would make. I regretted not being specific, but I do not like birds. Part of myself was mad that I said ‘bird’, I do not know many kinds of birds. I could only think ‘now this man is going to make some exotic bird for me, and I will not know what it is’.

[Pause of laughter] [A muffled voice in the background asks if he needs a break]

                Oh, no I am alright. I am alright. Where was I? Ah!

                Finally, he exhaled three big rings – much bigger than the bears. He stuck his entire arm through these rings and flicked away the ash of his cigarette before pulling back to his mouth. I was very impressed. Up to this point I was like all the other stagehands; I thought this little man was strange and bothersome, but no. No, he could make bears out of smoke. Who can do that? This is why I felt disappointed when the smoke did not look like a bird.

                I looked to the janitor hoping that he would wave his hand again - make the cloud become some sort of pigeon, or duck. No. He only stood there with his cigarette in his mouth.

                I felt an urge to apologize to him. At first, it was a very nice trick. I thought perhaps he could only do bears. Then I noticed he was not looking at me. He was still looking at his cloud of smoke. So I turned back and leaned on the railing beside him. And then I saw, there was this big bird in front of me. At first I did not see because it was shaped like a goose as it flies over head.

                No. Not a goose. What is a pretty goose? Swan? Yes, it was a swan.

                I only got to look at it for a moment before the wind pulled it over us. I twisted around to watch this smoky swan disappear above Paris. It was like this bird had flown away leaving me behind. Suddenly, I felt like a child again. I started to clap stupidly. I was so stupid that I burnt my hand with my clapping. You see, I still had my cigarette. I was so busy looking at this bird made of smoke that I forgot I was smoking, and the ash fell on the back of my hand. Look here, I still have little dots where it scarred!

                Oh, but I could not stop clapping! The janitor had made me happy again, and now I could see – I could see in his eyes that he was not happy. I could not understand; How could he be sad? So I thought if I kept clapping he would be happy too.

                This did not make him happy. I could not read his mind, but for some reason I thought that he believed that I was mocking him – The other stage hands are so mean to him, perhaps he does not understand. So I started to tell him how incredible he was, and I put my hand on his shoulder.

                That was a mistake. He - the janitor - he was like a rabbit. He became so afraid and pulled away from me like I was going to hit him! I did not want to hit him; I wanted to tell him how amazing he was. The next thing I knew, he was gone. Poof! No more janitor! I went looking for him and ran into my friend. He was upset with me. Apparently, I had been gone for a long time, and they needed help with a giant wooden nesting doll. I do not remember what it was for, only that it was very heavy, and I went home thinking my back was again broken.

                On our way out, I turned to my friend and asked him about the janitor. What else was I to do? This little man who was so troublesome was actually amazing. Someone else had to know. I could not understand because all he would have to do is smoke a cigarette in front of the host, and he would be on the show. My friend, he turned to me and said in a serious voice, “No, you do not tell anyone you saw him doing that.”

I asked him, “Why? He is so incredible.”

                I told him what I thought and said that the janitor should be on the show. My friend got very mad at this.

“No, you tell no one. Do you understand?”

[More laughter]

                I – I said nasty things to him after that. I don’t care to repeat them in case there are small children listening to this. I was very rude to him, but I felt he had been very rude to me. I had just shared this treasure with him, and he told me to shut up. I was angry - very angry. I was so angry, I intended to storm up to the host and demand he put this janitor on the show. It sounds ridiculous, even at the time. But that is what I was going to do.

                The next morning, I woke up early; I did not sleep very well as I had been up all night thinking about what I was going to say. I screwed up my face preparing to yell at this man, who had done nothing to me. We had never spoken. I do not think he knew my name. The only reason I could have possibly had to yell at the host was because I thought he was making this person who had amazed me – this amazing janitor – sad. That was all I could think of. The janitor deserved to be on the show; he was sad he was not on the show; so I would yell at the host of this show. This was my logic. The janitor was a stranger to me, and here I was, preparing to get myself fired for him. I must have been out of my mind. I knew I was, and yet I stormed towards the dressing room. If the host was there I would yell, and if not I would wait.

                I did not get so far. My boss, the chief stage hand, she caught me. She actually grabbed me by the arm on my way inside. I thought I could just walk past her. I went to the hospital later because of pain in my arm; there was a fracture – a hair-line fracture where she had grabbed me. It is funny now, but at the time, I thought she would kill me.

              So my boss, she drags me off to the side, and I knew, instantly, that my friend had called her. She told me I was not to bother the janitor again while he was smoking. I wanted to be rude to her as I had my friend. I could not; my mother would twist my ear from beyond the grave to know I said such things to a woman. So I did not. Instead, I tried to talk to her.

“Why is he not on the show?” I asked her. “He can do amazing things with just a cigarette.”

“Because Julian does not smoke.” She told me. “He only smokes when he is upset. I do not think he has smoked more than ten cigarettes since I met him.”

“But he could be on the show. Wouldn’t he be happy?”

“No, not for doing that. Leave him be, or you will be out of a job.”

                That was all she said. I never got to learn why he was smoking that day, or why the janitor was so upset when I touched his arm. If he were to come and tell me now, I would not want to know. I have not worked for the station in many years, we are strangers once again. I think it is better that way – not knowing. In the short time I was there I learned that the janitor was an extremely happy person. He tried to make everyone around him happy. Part of me believes the bears, the swan, those were just to make himself happy – I had just been lucky enough to see.


End file.
